


Sparks

by Crollalanza



Series: How the Fire Burns [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beginnings, College, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Multi, established daisuga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: If he closed his eyes, Suga could see the blur of bodies in front of him, still remember the quick steps as he ran to clutch at them both, tears streaming down his face, down all their faces. In Daichi’s arms, in Asahi’s arms, three inextricably linked.But how will the bond survive when two are in Tokyo, and one remains in Miyagi?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [Rinoa11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoa11/gifts).



> This is a follow up to Embers. It's not entirely necessary to read that to understand this, but you might well enjoy it.
> 
> Sparks is a belated Christmas gift to Eilidh and Noemi for always being supportive and very talented. Thank you, beautiful ones.

The pork bones had been boiling for an hour now, steam escaping with a hiss through a trembling lid, and misting up the ice-cold windows. Wandering back into the kitchen, phone in hand as it beeped a reminder, Suga checked the concoction, added more water so the bones were covered, placed the lid back on and walked across to the fridge.

“I’m off!” Kuroo stepped through the door, bag over his shoulder and hand raised.

“Have fun,” Suga replied. “Say hi to Kenma-kun and Kai for me.”

“Will do.” Kuroo paused. “Where’s Sawamura?”

“Gone to pick up some mirin. We’re out.”

“Ah, well I’ll see y’all in a week.” He sniffed the air. “What are you making?”

“Tonkotsu ramen,” Suga informed him. He found a carton of juice, pouring himself a glass before turning back round, and adding proudly, “From scratch.”

“You didn’t think about ordering takeaway?”Kuroo teased.

“ _Nothing_ beats this recipe,” Suga replied.

“Yeah, well ...” He hoisted the bag higher on his shoulder. “As long as the air’s clear when I get back.”

“Ha ha.”

“Seriously, you really are going to a lot of trouble for just the pair of you.”

“I like cooking and it’s no trouble,” Suga said, keeping his voice cheery. He swallowed some juice, letting it clear the thickening in his throat. “And it’s not just me and Daichi.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot. Azumane’s back, right?”

“Mmm.” Suga sipped his juice, turning side on so Kuroo couldn’t see his entire face which he wasn’t totally sure he could trust.

“Have fun. He can sleep in my bed if he wants. Gotta be better than the futon, and it’s tidier than Yaks’s room.”

“Thanks,” Suga said, and flashed him a smile. A genuine smile. “Have a good time, okay?”

With another wave, Kuroo left, and now it was just Suga in their apartment. And a saucepan of simmering pork bones.

Which really _did_ smell awful.

He opened a window, letting the chill winter air rush into the kitchen. The condensation on the windows began to shrink, clouds disappearing until the pane was clear. Outside the snow had settled, packed into the concrete by the myriad of footsteps passing by their block every day. Daichi had walked, pulling on his fur boots and bundling himself up in a jersey, gloves, scarf and a hat before venturing outside.  Tokyo in winter, not as cold as Miyagi, the snow a grey slush rather than the pure white they’d encountered last January.

Back then, they’d been thinking about Nationals, their minds set firmly on the near future and not the horizons awaiting them.

If he closed his eyes, he could see the blur of bodies in front of him, still remember the quick steps as he ran to clutch at them both, tears streaming down his face, down all their faces. In Daichi’s arms, in Asahi’s arms, three inextricably linked.

And now ...

“Hey.” A pair of hands snaked round his waist, and a cold as ice nose nuzzled into his neck. “I got the mirin.”

“My hero,” Suga replied, and let himself relax into Daichi’s arms. “You didn’t have to go, you know. I’m sure it’ll be fine without.”

“Not a problem. I had other stuff to do.” He kissed Suga’s neck, hugging him closer. “How are the bones?”

“Simmering nicely. Kuroo’s gone. He said ‘bye’.”

A beat.

“So we have the place to ourselves,” Daichi whispered, his breath soft and warm.

Suga laughed. “Since when has that been a requirement?” He twisted around, pecked Daichi on the lips, then extracted himself. “Asahi will be here soon. Might be better if we’re dressed when he turns up.”

“Sure.” Turning away, Daichi unpacked the mirin, leaving it on the side.  He didn’t leave the kitchen, though, and didn’t make any attempt to move back to Suga, or touch him in any way.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Dai, this is me. I know that intense look.”

“Just wondering about something. It’s not a problem.”

“Then tell me.”

With a sigh, Daichi unwound his scarf, then flopped onto a chair at the table. He pulled another one out, pushing it towards Suga. “It’s about Asahi.”

 _Ah._ “What about him?” Suga took the chair, sinking into it.

“This is the first time we’ll all be alone together since summer.”

“And our camping trip,” Suga replied, getting straight to the point. “Where we kissed.”

“Mmm.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve not talked about it.”

“Yes, we have. I distinctly remember the conversation when I was giggling and wondering if Asahi would grow his beard back, and you said it might be fun. Then you offered to grow a goatee in case -”

“Not with him,” Daichi interrupted. He averted his eyes, staring at the floor. “At least, I haven’t, not even in a chat, but ... uh ... I don’t know if you have.”

Letting his lip slide slowly through his teeth, Suga took a moment before replying. “I’ve not. I mean, I’ve not really, but it’s kind of been mentioned.” He sniffed. “Then skirted around and finally ignored. I would have told you if anything significant had been mentioned.”

“Yeah, I know.” Daichi rubbed the back of his head, twisting his mouth into a wry smile. “What has he said?”

“Uhm, not much. I texted him when we’d got back. Ended some texts with a few more x’s. I also told him we had to do it again, and then he kind of ... uh ...”

“Said no?” Daichi said, sounding firm.

“Not exactly.”

“He said yes?”

 Now he sounded surprised, possibly happy.

 It was hard to tell what Daichi was thinking, just as it was hard to tell what he really felt about it all because it had been such an impulsive, joyous thing at the time, that he’d tried not to destroy the memory by analysis and over thinking.

“Not that either. He said he wasn’t sure about getting time off, and then we’ve not seen him without anyone else around since that trip. I mean-” Suga grimaced “- he’s shy... ish.”

“Yeah.” Daichi leant back, tipping his face towards the ceiling. “Guess we have to face the fact that we’re shit at snogging and we’ve put him off for life.”

“Well, you are,” Suga agreed, laughing, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe we just let it go. Chalk it up to summer fun.”

“And that’s what you want?”

“Is it what you want?”

“I guess.” Daichi met his eyes, dark and brooding, there was a muscle twitching just near his brow. “It’s a complication,” he muttered.

“We’re already complicated, Dai,” Suga replied. Hearing the rattle of the saucepan lid, he got to his feet.

“Do you blame me for not talking to him about it?”

Shaking his head, Suga filled the jug from the tap then slowly poured the cold water into the pan, hearing a hiss and then silence as the rolling boil temporarily ceased. “It’s not what you do. Maybe it’s better like this. Less complicated, like you say.”

“But ...”

Suga smiled. He breathed in the steamy kitchen air, and allowed himself the tiniest daydream of a campfire, a tent and the three of them alone.

Asahi’s kisses soft and tender, not quite an innocent, but with a tentativeness that Suga couldn’t quite forget.

 _Did I push him?_ He’d wondered often since then, chewing the side of his mouth as he worried at it. He’d not broached the issue with Daichi, wondering if maybe it was better forgotten as the weeks went by.

_Did I push both of them?_

“Summer romance,” he said, and replaced the lid on the pan with a clang. “That was all.”

“Really?”

“We’re happy like this,” Suga said firmly. “And I don’t want to lose Asahi, Dai. He’s a friend above everything else, and if we force the pace again, he’ll –”

“Hey!”Daichi rapped the table with his knuckles.

“What?”

“We didn’t _force_ anything. It happened, and we all enjoyed it. At least, I think we did. But ... yeah ... I don’t want to lose his friendship. Too important.”

“So we say nothing,” Suga said, and waited for confirmation.

A wave or a nod or something – was that too much to ask?

“Daichi?”

He blinked, then stared up at Suga. “Sure.”

Then added...

Fatally -

“If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because ...” Inwardly he groaned, not wanting to show the remotest weakness, because what if Daichi then thought he wasn’t enough for Suga?

_That’s dumb, of course he is._

His hand gripped the counter top, the thought he’d tried to push to the back of his mind since July, resurfacing with the force of a spike.

_But what if I’m not enough for Daichi?_

“Sug.”

“Mmm.”

Daichi had got to his feet and was standing in front of him, reaching out to take both Suga’s hands, cupping them in his own. “They’re cold.”

“So are yours.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been outside buying mirin for the dish you’re making, which we could quite easily have gone out and bought the stock for.”

“I like cooking.”

“I know.” He squeezed his fingers. “Tonkotsu ramen, eh?”

Suga nodded. “Asahi’s favourite. His mum’s recipe.”

“It’ll be okay, you know. If Asahi had been weirded out by what happened, he’d not have decided to visit.”

“Which means we really are shit at snogging and there’s no way he wants a repeat, or he’s far more mature than us and has decided it was a one off.”

Daichi shrugged. “Or he’s been hit by a volleyball and lost his memory.”

“But he remembers where we live.”

“Partial memory loss,” Daichi said gravely.  Then he smiled, not smirking, but warm, and his eyes crinkled at the sides. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t happen, you are more than enough for me, all right?”

Suga nodded.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘And, you, Daichi – love of my life, O Captain of my heart, are far, far too much for me, and I’m _o’er_ brimming with love and lust for you’,” Daichi proclaimed, and kissed his fingers.

Snorting, Suga snatched his hands away. “Yeah, don’t push it.”

“We’re cool, then.”

“Yup.”

“And you’re not going to ponder every single option and analyse every word he comes out with, or his every gesture.”

“Nope.”

“Good.” Leaning over, he pushed Suga’s hair out of his eyes, smoothing one side back around his ears.  “Let’s just see what happens, Sug, okay?”

***

He’d been on the coach from Miyagi since forever. Sitting cramped in his seat for over two hours since the last rest stop, Asahi attempted to shift a little to his right. The problem was that the old woman he was sitting next to, despite being half his size, glared in the most alarming way every time he tried to stretch. She toed her bag a little to the side, determined not to let him stretch out at all. He tried a smile, but she glared harder, so he turned away pressing his forehead against the window and watching as the countryside faded, houses appeared, followed by shops, then clusters of buildings as they sped into the city.

Unwilling to move to find his book, Asahi instead took out his phone, making sure it was switched to mute, checked new messages (there weren’t any) then scrolled through his old ones.

Suga, effusive as ever, had sent several recently. He texted regularly, but of varying length. Most weeks it was a simple line checking how he was doing or asking about Karasuno. But then he’d intersperse his normal texts with something daft, a lighter text telling Asahi he’d seen something silly in a shop, or sending him a picture of a cat or an odd looking bird.  Asahi had smiled at first reading these, loving that Suga thought of him, and sent something on a whim.

It was three weeks or so into college, that he realised something. Suga’s whackier texts coincided with Daichi sending him a message too. Of course Daichi was in touch, volleyball related mainly, but there’d be the odd message with a different tone – short and clipped – not bothering with the niceties of a ‘hi’ or ending with a smiley face.

_< <I’m back in Miyagi for Mum’s birthday during Golden Week. Want to meet up?>>_

**< <This is the best cat in Tokyo, Asahi. She licks you as soon as you enter the cafe. You MUST come and visit.>>**

He’d met Daichi, and they’d mourned the fact that their old team had gone to Tokyo for practise matches, consoling themselves with pork buns.

“How’s Suga?” Asahi remembered asking, unsure of the response and not wanting to hear it in case it was anything bad because why hadn’t Suga come back to Miyagi? Why had he stayed in Tokyo and not made the trip with Daichi?

 _Am I supposed to take sides?_ he’d thought.

“Ah, he’s fine.” Daichi’s face had creased into a smile and the hunch to his shoulders had lessened. Sipping his coffee, he’d leant back in his chair. “He would have come back, but ... uh ... it was easier. He says he’ll see you in the summer. Unless you want to visit us.”

They’d talked a while longer, reminiscence as well as each other’s news, but as it got to the end of the hour Daichi had free, Asahi was aware of the tension returning to his frame, and the clouds had gathered in his eyes when he finally said goodbye.

 

 **< < Oikawa found this wonderful patisserie, and I had this amazing cream cake.>>  **Suga had texted in early June, followed by a picture of himself with cream on his nose.

 _< <I’ll be back for Summer.>> _ Daichi’s had followed almost an hour later.

 **< <New socks!>>** Pale blue with pink crabs on them, the picture had made Asahi chuckle.

_< <I’m working through summer with Dad but do want to meet up.>>_

**< <This is what’s left of Yaku’s cake. It was awful! I hid mine in a plant pot then forgot about it. Ooops!!!>>**

_< <Want to practise? Ukai-san said I could train with the Neighbourhood team.>>_

He’d met up with Daichi quite frequently in that first week. A bit of training, the odd coffee, even a film one night at his house. He remembered the atmosphere being tense, Daichi’s mum’s conventional manners overriding a hostility she felt towards anything to do with the old team. And then things had changed. Daichi had argued with his parents, turned up at the restaurant Asahi worked in and asked to crash at his for a night.

Suga’s ever more frequent friendly messages and silly pictures had ceased. Used to ten or more a day while Daichi had been in Miyagi, Asahi had begun to shake his phone unsure it was working correctly, only reassured when the real reason stood in front of them.

“Well, Mum and Dad visited me, so I thought I’d return with them,” he’d said carelessly, landing on Asahi’s doorstep with a shrug and then his sunshine smile.

Asahi wasn’t sure if Suga had changed, or maybe it was just because he hadn’t seen him in a while but it suddenly struck him how beautiful he was.  

_Have I really never noticed this before?_

But he had, he realised later that night when Daichi had left to stay at Suga’s instead, he’d always known, but never acted on it.

Noticing was what he did. He’d realised his friends were an item long before they told him.

Hiding that he’d noticed was another thing he did. He’d known of Suga’s feelings, and seen Daichi’s emerging blearily after two girlfriends and a vow to date no one else while they fought for Nationals.

He’d watched on, curious, wringing his fingers (what if they fell out? Would he have to take sides?) then happy at their obvious happiness.

There were twinges inside him sometimes. But not of jealousy. He didn’t _want_ to be with Suga. He didn’t _yearn_ for Daichi. Or long to be in a relationship with anyone. It wasn’t even that he missed them as a trio because they’d still hung out, they were still as close, and it had always been obvious that one day their worlds would shift.

And then he was the one of three left behind.

 

His phone vibrated. Dragged out of his reverie, he saw Daichi’s message flash up on the screen. A ‘hi’ and then a smiley face.

_< <Shall I meet you at the bus stop?>>_

The old lady tutted as he began to type in his reply. He tried another smile, but she pinched her lips together and turned her head away.

 **< <I’m nearly there>>** he sent back, recognising the streets as they pulled into Tokyo. **< <I’ll start walking>>**

_< <If you’re sure. Cut through the park and I’ll meet you by the main gate. That’s around half way. You know it?>>_

**< <I can find it. Just you?>>**

_< <Yeah, Sug’s cooking.>>_

**< <Ah>>**

< _< Don’t worry. I’ve hidden the chillies!>>_

**< <He’s not going to a lot of trouble, is he?>>**

_< <Course he is. He’s looking forward to seeing you.>>_

Asahi blinked, about to reply but then Daichi typed something back.

_< <So am I. It’ll be good to catch up.>>_

**< <It will.>>**

_< <Yeah, it might be snowing, but the apartment’s warm. It’ll be like summer.>>_

_Summer?_

He swallowed. **< <My bus is pulling up>>**

_< <I’ll set out then. See you soon>>_

 

The bus came to a stop. He set off, after making sure his neighbour knew he wasn’t following her. (She’d continued to mutter under her breath even when he helped her with her bag which she’d wedged in too tight under her seat.) The snow was packed hard underfoot, ice across the side streets, although the roads were gritted and pavements clear. Up ahead, he could see the park, a troop of snowmen standing guard against a bombardment of snowballs. So, tightening his scarf, Asahi wandered in, his eyes dead ahead on the other entrance, the one where he’d meet Daichi.

His breath was white in the air, halting and not a cloud around him as he faltered towards his destination. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come? Maybe he should have stayed behind, kept up the friendship through texts, and in a year or so, it would all be forgotten.

(He wouldn’t remember the heat of that night, the rasp of Daichi’s chin, his lips warm and pliant. He’d not recall the hitch in Suga’s throat, and the way his hair, despite the smoke from the fire, had smelt of sunshine and cut grass.)

 _It will be easier if I see them,_ he’d thought. He’d realise they were normal and not the spirits he’d conjured in his head. He could go to sleep at night without mulling it over, without reaching into the dangerous world of fantasy and what might have been if he’d not ...

_I was scared. Did they realise?_

Suga’s kisses had become lighter. Daichi’s hands had come to rest on Asahi’s shoulders, and they’d lain under the stars a glorious heap of giggling and breathlessness and silence as they took in the twinkling lights under the leafy canopy.

And he told himself it hadn’t been awkward, and for the rest of their trip they had been fine, but once their car had gone, Suga driving the pair of them back to Tokyo, the dream had faded, that other world disappearing like his breath in the air.

He went back to the restaurant, serving customers, taking orders, clearing tables, learning the ropes of the kitchen, and gently avoiding the overtures from one of the waitresses, despite his aunt’s encouragement.

And he tried not to think of the campfire, its glowing embers flickering between flaring into life or dying down to ash.

 

Daichi was there, a cup of coffee in his one hand, and waving with the other. Even from this distance, Asahi knew he was smiling, and his eyes creased with delight at seeing his friend. He damped down the swoop in his stomach and picked up his pace.

“Hey!” Daichi’s grin was wide. “Want a coffee?”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to take your bag?” he offered, stretching out his hand.

“I’m fine.”

“You said.”  He sipped more of his drink, then sticking his free hand in his jacket pocket, he began to amble away. “We’ll be on the pavement soon. It’s less slippery there.”

He was chatting, not the way Suga chatted – meandering over the place, attention veering off as he changed the subject – but more focused. It was small talk, which Daichi didn’t often do, but there was a very real reason behind it, Asahi sensed. Keep it light, stop any awkward silences, but let Asahi know he was there, he had his back if there was anything he needed to confess.

“Yaku and Kuroo aren’t around,” Daichi said as they approached a corner. He stopped at the kerb, waiting for Asahi to press the crossing button.  

Just then a boy ran up, sliding along the ice, his hand raised, and calling back to his mum, ‘I’ll press it. I’ll press it.’ But something stopped him, and mid-slide, he wobbled, nearly falling to the ground if it hadn’t been for Daichi grabbing his coat sleeve just in time.

Thanking him profusely, the mum gathered up her son, then chiding him a little, took his hand when the road was clear so they could cross.

“You scared him,” Daichi said.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you had your intense game face on.”

“Huh?”

“That super-scary ‘look at me, I’m the Ace and no one can block me’ expression that intimidated the opposition into submission.’”

“Did it?”

Daichi snorted. “That’s what it looked like to an observer, but you were usually trying to control your stomach so you didn’t barf everywhere.”

“Oh ... right.”

He could feel himself frowning again, the swoop in his stomach turning into a nosedive as a series of cramps hit him. This was no game. This ... this was life... and what if he’d made the biggest mistake of _his_ life coming here?

“Hey.” Daichi touched his hand, and he could feel the warmth of his palm even through the woollen glove. “What I’m saying is that Kuroo’s room is free, so you don’t have to use our shitty futon which is about three meters too short for you.”

A pause. His fingers furled round the back of Asahi’s mitten.

“What I’m also saying is that I’m sorry _we_ haven’t talked before and ...” He pressed his lips together, holding Asahi’s gaze, before finishing. “We’ve missed you, all right, and if that camping trip has put you off ever wanting to hang out with us again, then we’ll forget about it okay?”

He was about to nod, to mumble a ‘yes’ and an ‘it’s for the best’ because even if they were words of regret, surely it was better to forget and not explore further. Some games were unwinnable, however much you wanted the victory. It could be taken from your hands by a far stronger side. He tried again, this time clearing his throat, but just then, he caught sight of another figure at the end of the road, a smudge in the distance, but there was a flash of blue, like a patch of sky in the unremitting white, and he knew – he just _knew_ – who it was.

Daichi had released his hand, and his voice when he spoke again was as soft as snow falling.  “I’ve always been a Wing Spiker, you know?”

The figure at the end of the street was walking faster towards them. He had a hood on.

 _A fur hood,_ Asahi remembered.

“Um ... yeah,” he muttered, not knowing why Daichi was mentioning this now.

“But maybe I should be a Setter.”

“Huh.” He span round.  “Are you thinking about switching position?”

“I’m sending you the toss, Ace,” Daichi murmured, and then chuckled. “The ball’s for you, so place it wherever you want in the court. Even out, if that’s what you think’s best.”

“Daichi?”

“Asahi-kun,” Daichi said. “He’s not going to make the first move again, so ...”

“And you?”

“Defence is my best quality,” he soothed. “You’re the attacker.”

His face was framed in fur. His cheeks pink from the cold and the blue scarf – the same one from school – was fluffed around his neck. Suga’s mouth was in one firm line as if determined to keep his expression neutral, but as he looked at Asahi, and then at Daichi, his face split into the most extraordinary smile – sunshine and moonlight vying for a spot in this beauty.

“Asahi!” Suga cried, and began to wave his hands high in the air, as if using semaphore.

“Well, he’s recognised you. That’s a good sign,” Daichi joked.

Suga slid their way, gliding like a skater, he skidded then stopped in front of them, still smiling, but his hand now plucked a little nervously at his sleeve.

“I dropped the mirin,” he said, giving Daichi a side glance.

“You could have texted. I’d have picked up more.”

“Fresh air never harms anyone. I’ve been inside too long,” Suga replied.

He was staring at Asahi, smile still on his face, but hadn’t made a move, unsure, perhaps.

“You don’t have gloves,” Asahi said.

_Dumb! Haven’t seen him for months and the only thing I can talk about are gloves!_

“I keep losing them. But if I curl them into fists and shove them in my pockets they stay warm.”

Daichi coughed. Asahi waited for him to speak, but it seemed he genuinely was just coughing because no words appeared.

“Or we could share,” Asahi replied finally.

“Huh?”

He stuck out his hand, touching Suga’s fingers. “I’ll hold this one, and Daichi can hold the other. That will help, won’t it?”

Daichi’s eyes twinkled. Giving Asahi a wink, he grabbed Suga, spinning him around so he was in between the pair of them and facing the right way. “Sounds like a plan, Ace-san. What do you reckon, Sug?”

“A very good plan.”

They began to walk, Suga gripping their hands, and laughing as he almost slipped.

He’d been sent the ball. He was making the run up. And now, squeezing Suga’s hand, it was time to take the game.

Asahi tilted his head down, bent towards Suga and gently floated his lips on his cheek – the gesture barely there to an observer, but known to the three of them.

“I missed you, Suga,” he said. “I missed both of you.”

And neither of them spoke, but Daichi shuffled closer, throwing his arm across Asahi’s back.

“Missed you, too, goofball,” Daichi muttered at last, his voice a husk.

“Very much,” Suga whispered, sniffling.

And as they stayed together, finding warmth in the icy street, Asahi felt a huge wave of contentment ripple through him.

He was sure he’d been left behind, perpetually drifting like campfire smoke, or snow in the wind, unable to find a path. But with Suga’s face on his chest, and Daichi’s hand clasped tight on his shoulder, he realised he was keeping step with his friends as they moved on.

Together.


End file.
